


I am used to

by thesongofdarkness



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, POV Sam Winchester, au where dean leaves for college, just a lot of Sam's thoughts that spinned into some kind of story, thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-08 01:55:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4286205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesongofdarkness/pseuds/thesongofdarkness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written as some kind of au where Dean leaves for college, and thru Sam's thoughts we see his childhood up to the point where Dean leave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I am used to

I am not jealous, not really.  
I am just not used to be invisible, at least not to you.  
I am not used to sharing you, not with him, not with the world.  
I am used to having you all for myself.  
I am used to sharing you, to some degrees.  
I am used to sharing some bits, small bits. But never all of you.  
I am used to your looks, your smile, your touch.  
I am used to sharing every moment of my day with you, I am used to being with you. I am used to always having you at my side.  
I am used to having you close, never further away that I could just reach out and touch you.  
I am used to sharing my breath, my space, with you.  
I am used to sharing my thoughts with you, my fears, my dreams.  
I am used to exploring the world with you by my side, town for town, bit for bit, moment for moment.  
I am used to your protection, your carefulness. The way you seems to always watch out for me, the way you seems to know exactly what I need before I even know it myself.  
I am used to have your time, to see your smile, to hear your laugh.  
I am used to watch your back, to protect you, to fight for you.  
I am used to the two of us against the world, but now it seems like it's only me fighting my own battles while you slip further and further away from me.  
I am used to fight them side by side with you, I am used to killing the monsters with your breath down my neck.  
I am used to sharing my secrets, telling my fears to the only person that mean something, the only person that matters.  
I am used to be soothed, to be told that everything is going to be okay.  
I am used to late night discussion, to driving roads that seems endless.  
I am used to desperate kisses in the dark and lazy days in bed.  
I am used to soothing kisses trying to kiss the pain away.  
I am used to swearing and an occasionally "thank god" when something goes particularly wrong.  
I am used to the way you say my name, the way “Sammy “seems to be as natural for you as breathing.  
I am used to callous hands, and eyes that seems to hold the whole universe.  
I am used to hugs so tight no one knows when the first begins and the other ends.  
I am used to tears, and pain and misery.  
I am used to lies, broken laughter’s and broken bones.  
I am used to love and happiness and an endless hope for something better.  
I am used to new towns, and new names, and all of them blurring together.  
I am used to constant moving, and always starting somewhere new.  
I am used to being the new kid, the shy kid, the one that no one seems to remember.  
I am used to tears and smiles and more wounds that I can count.  
I am used to dried tears marks and shouting yourself hoarse.  
I am used to fear, fear of death, fear of monsters and fear of losing him.  
I am used to destroyed dreams and smiles that don’t reach the eyes.  
I am used to a drunken father and brother who won't give up.  
I am used to finding the light in the situation.  
I am used to holding tight to the things in my life that matters.  
I am used to fighting for what I believe in.  
I am used to having you all for myself, and then he comes inn.  
He talks of college, of getting away from this small town.  
He talks about big cities, and a brighter future.  
He talks of hope and happiness.  
He talks about a new chance, and you believe him.  
You call him your angel, your saving grace, and suddenly I don’t have you all for myself.  
You become absent; you become slowly more and more vanished.  
And when the letter come, you become gone.


End file.
